The falling Red Sun in the White Sky
by lilychan0330
Summary: Beth learns about growing up after finding her reasons to live, through the love and redemption of Daryl Dixon.
1. Prologue

Hey everyone! Yay it's another Bethyl story… And I have absolutely no idea where it's going. This story is meant to have a darker realistic feel to it (not too gory don't fear!), and lots of romance eventually! So please review and feel free to leave any ideas you'd like to see happen! Also, I hope to update as regularly as I can but am busy with uni so sometimes that's impossible, but please bear with me! Thanks for reading! (Sorry for any spelling errors)

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

Day 134: Hour 16

When does war begin? How many lives must one take before survival can be called murder?

Beth thinks she could probably trace it back to when she began school, and the kids around her were just beginning to discover their differences. A war began then in every small heart, as it had in their fathers and mothers previously.  
Maybe it was bigger than just people though, maybe the first war began when night began to coexist beside the delicate rays of day. Maggie will tell her, days and weeks from now, that war never stops, it climbs peaks, settles into mountains, and then erupts only to start climbing again. But Beth is not the sort of person who can believe in a world without peace, and that is why she waits on the whitewashed wood of their porch, and stares into the russet-coloured horizon of dusk, and wills hope into each new day.

Beth has not seen the withered corpses of women and children choke on mouthfuls of her flesh, she has not seen towns wrought with rotting death and the cities full of desolation. She is simply living in a world created by her daddy's ignorance, because all mankind must deserve mercy when horror arrives to cloak them, and because she knows no other warmth as Jimmy's hand reaches to tuck a wayward lock of gold behind her ear.  
Yet somewhere inside her there is a pit of blossoming fear, and it whispers to her at night of blood and hatred, and she will wake to the sound of turning pages and her daddy's muffled sobs and she will not dare sleep again because she knows that this war will never end.

Day 198: Hour 13

It is pink and yellow, bright light through the leaves of the trees. Some pleasures in life are very small, yet Beth smiles all the same. It is a short moment, brought to execution by the sound of screams and shouts, and then she sees Otis bellowing through the paddocks, blood all over his shirt, followed by two strangers, and Beth panics, her knees trembling until she forces her lungs to yell for anyone who will hear her.

Day 199: Hour 17

Maggie has just returned with Rick's wife, and their young son is still not awake, yet his breathing is stable after the blood received from his father. Otis has been distraught, pacing, mumbling, as if the answer for everything could be found in the heavy trod of his boots. Beth pities him, but she knows that pity is the last thing anyone overflowing with remorse wants to receive. Instead she lays a gentle hand on his shoulder as she passes by, and heads off to help Patricia with dinner. 

Beth doesn't trust Shayne, and she doesn't know why. He's a big man, and Beth is nearly half his height, yet it's his eyes which set her on edge, two voids of darkness that hold only anger. So when Otis says he will go with him to the overrun hospital, a knot begins to twist in Beth's stomach. Patricia weeps, begs her husband not to leave, but Otis shakes his head, he was the one who shot Carl, so he will do whatever it takes to get what Hershel needs to save the boy.  
The two men leave and from the porch Beth watches the receding outlines of their figures disappear into the black. 

Concern is like a plague, and not many words are exchanged between the time they all sit down to eat and the time they get up from their chairs, meals cold and untouched and ready to be scraped into the bin. 

Day 200: Hour 4

Beth's sleep is broken by the pained wails of loss. She pulls the covers over her head because that is what she had done as a child when it felt like her heart was being torn to shreds. Except now it is real, and the world is crumbling, and no one can do a single thing about it, besides wait, fight, and then die.

Day 207: Hour 10

It has been a week now since the rest of Rick's people arrived, yet still the little girl they claim to be searching for has not been found. Beth's days have been full of the mundane chores of a housewife, and she finds she quite enjoys the company of the new women around. Beth smiles whenever she sees her big sister wander off with the Asian boy, Glenn, because she knows that even in a world of ruin, love has its place.  
Her nights are often spent indulging in sneaky kisses with Jimmy behind the barn. His hand will wander up her shirt and she will giggle and squirm beneath his lips until the cracking of twigs will send them running back up the road, panting with relief and adrenaline. 

Day 217: Hour 14

Beth has always been the kind of girl who sheds tears for the misfortunes of strangers on television broadcasts, who mourns for other people because there could never be any chance that something so tragic could happen to her family. She has always lived a sheltered life of comfort beneath the wing of her daddy and his wife, even with the knowledge that her mother died when she was too young to understand death. Beth would cry for others, cry for the unknown feelings that she was yet to experience, but when Shayne rips open the doors of that barn, there is a short moment when her stomach drops into the dread she now realises was reality, and then her world shatters. Because corpses who she has been lead to believe were sick, the rotting figures of her step mother and brother, are tearing their way towards her, taking bullets which would kill any mortal, and she can do nothing besides cry on her daddy's shoulder. And this time she cries for herself, and her own pain. 


	2. Chapter 1

Day 213: Hour 18

Daryl grits his teeth. Pain is the shadow that lurks beneath his footsteps as the days grow into one another. He is no stranger to the feeling, as it has leeched off his soul since the first moment his deafening wails broke the worlds face. Yet the arrow wound in his side still bites, and his head throbs with the urge to spit bile and cough up his guts. Slowly Daryl eases himself up with his right arm, his good side, and a string of curses spill from his lips as the crisp linen bed sheets shift his bandages. The chilled summer air hits the skin of his back and with a jerk of panic Daryl realizes his back is bare, that the pathetic shell of his scarred human self is exposed to anyone who might come and invade his privacy.

But when the world falls to shit it will drag anything it can down with it, including Daryl Dixon's humility, because somewhere in a blend of his hazy consciousness and his pointless contemplations, he has failed to pick up the sound of delicate knocking on hard wood and the entrance of a slender figure. And when he turns his head slightly he will notice Hershel's youngest daughter lingering in the doorway, a wary mask on her face, and he will mutter and curse until he is once again covered and her shaky hands have placed a tray of steaming soup and warm tea down beside him.  
Daryl averts the heat of his glare toward the patterned wallpaper while the cords of his vocals knot themselves against a 'thank you', yet the girls is no fool, and she does not stay any longer even if he was man enough to say it. Instead Daryl is left with the lump of his unspoken words and the echo of the banging door as it closes behind a sweep of golden hair.

Day 213: Hour 21

Beth winces as the hot soapy water seeps into the cut of her thumb. Her evening has been slow, with Jimmy out looking for Sophia she has been left to the thoughts in her head and the shouts of her sister and daddy as Maggie begs of him to let Rick and the others stay. With Carl on his feet she has hardly seen much of the other women around the house recently, aside from Carol checking in on Daryl, and she is sick of reading conversations instead of having them. Their company has grown on her too, yet she is scared to admit it to anyone because this family is all she has left, and she will do anything she can to keep it that way. At a loss she chops vegetables and boils water, and a particularly angry carrot finds her with a cut on the thumb she is now scowling at, stopping her from going further with scrubbing the dishes.  
Beth sighs and slumps against the pantry. The calm front she wears is dissimilar to the taught ache in her chest that speaks to her of her loved ones safety.  
Beth has had only kind intentions when she prepares food to leave for Daryl, yet after she has caught sight of the man's scarred and tattooed back, the breath for any words leave, and she is standing there uselessly while he speaks harsh words, and she has never felt the flush on her cheeks burn so strong as it had then.  
The embarrassment crushes down on her as she now wipes down the counters, she has never felt so hated before, has never been the occupant of such a fierce gaze, and she is so caught up in mortification that she does not hear the sound of her name repeated on labored breathes until she is wrapped tightly in Jimmy's embrace, his lips at her ear, and then everything is new again.

Day 214: Hour 10

Daryl is meant to be in bed resting, Hershel's orders, yet he has never been one to take other peoples word into consideration. Instead he has been searching beneath the trees shadows since dawn, the light now casting patterns across his hard features, yet still nothing certain has been found since he picked up the little girl's doll.  
His eyes turn dark and his senses bristle at the sound of crunching foliage a little way ahead him, so with the agile sleekness of a hunter he darts through the shrubbery and nearly contradicts himself by tripping on an upturned tree root.  
What he sees is not the flesh seeking monster he has prepared for, it is two very living beings, in a heated embrace against the bark of a trunk. Daryl is no prude, but to walk in on such a thing in the middle of the apocalypse baffles him somewhat, and for something to baffle him, pisses him off, he doesn't know why, and not knowing only pisses him off even more.  
What's worse is that it is those two kids, the boy who pretends he is a man doing men's business, Jimmy, with his hand up the shirt of the blonde girl, Beth.  
Daryl falters and drops his knife, and in that moment he captures their unwanted attention. Beth is all wide eyes and pink cheeks, while Jimmy wears a sincere expression of guilt. Daryl scoffs, bending to regain his weapon before backing away slowly. Hell, what kind of a situation is this, he doesn't even know kids have sexual needs, let alone in a world like this. That's a lie; he had experimented younger than they are, a thought which Daryl pushes to the far recesses of his mind.  
As soon as he disappears from the small clearing he wipes the sweat and embarrassment from his face. His journey back to the farm is filled with false alarms and bird songs, yet mostly it is him desperately trying to ignore the image of a staring pair of blue eyes.

Day 214: Hour 14

Beth's heart is trying to break its way from her chest as she searches the farm for Daryl. She knows he is somewhat of an outcast, and since recovering from his injury he has steered clear of the house, if not his own people, and Beth is not brave enough to go wondering the woods by herself to try find him. She asks Lori, who is teaching Carl, a book open in front of them, if she has seen the man, and after a quizzical look and somewhat of a raised brow she points Beth to where Daryl has set up his own camp.  
Beth hasn't even recovered from their awkward encounter last night when she accidently caught sight of his back, let alone this morning when he saw her and Jimmy, but she needs to talk to him.  
The image of Daryl's scarred skin is burnt into the back of her eyelids, revisiting her whenever she blinks or closes her eyes. There was something beautifully demented about the way they crisscross over the inked tattoos of demons that sit on his shoulder blades. Yet at the same time Beth thinks they are beautiful, she is wrought with such an inner turmoil of sadness and pity that she wants to gag.  
Her boots crunch over the crisp grass of the paddocks, and Beth is starting to wonder if she is even on their property anymore just as she spots a small tent through the barricade of trees. As she approaches cautiously her nose catches a hint of blood and her mind begins to reel in panic, she has brought no weapons to defend herself, and what if it is Daryl wounded and dying out here in a puddle of his own blood? Beth shudders and wills the thought down to settle amongst the butterflies in her belly, and then she is rapidly repulsed at what seems like human parts, ears, fingers, hands, hanging from the tree branches around the tent. She can't see Daryl anywhere, so she takes a hesitant step closer, raising her hand as if to touch what seems to be trophy ornaments. Beth is filled with such a strange blend of curiosity and disgust that she jumps in surprised fear as a hand closes tightly around her forearm.  
Before her gasp can turn into anything alarming there is Daryl's husky voice at her ear. "Don't scream."  
Beth whirls on him, wrenching herself free and distancing herself from him and the family of dead squirrels he holds. She bumps into one of the dangling body parts in the process and gives a feminine shriek, running her hands hastily through her hair and over her top to check for any bloody damage.  
During her antics Beth is unaware of the dark eyes that pierce her skeptically, until she manages to maintain a frown and directs a sharp look up at Daryl, her cheeks blemished with rosiness.  
"You can't tell my daddy." Her words come out fast and a little blurred, but he hears them because he throws a small chuckle in her direction. Beth bites her lip, because evidently Daryl isn't taking this seriously. "Please. He'll make Jimmy leave if he knows."  
Daryl doesn't say anything; he simply chucks the squirrels in a heap, and carelessly begins to skin one with his knife, unaware of the grotesque manner in which Beth eyes him.  
"Daryl."  
It's the sharpness in her voice that makes him look up. She is standing there, awkward in long muddy boots and a tousled ponytail, and for some reason she is self-conscious under his watchful gaze.  
"Listen princess, I got better things to do than sit round here an' gossip to your dad. Now why don' you run 'long and play dolls or somethin', make ya'self useful."  
Beth is irritated with the way he speaks to her, like she's an ignorant child, and the heat rushes to her face and her fists clench. Her mouth opens and she says something she doesn't plan on. "Why do you do this?"  
She doesn't need the brightness of the sun in his squinted eyes to tell her that he is confused. She gestures around them, at the fallen logs and small campfire, the lone tent. "This. Why do you isolate yourself like this?" She can tell he too is surprised by what she is saying, but his silence makes her bold, so she continues. "Why must it be you against the world? Can't you see how everyone you're with values you? Instead you just sit out here skinning poor little animals and pretend you don't care!"  
Beth doesn't realize how much breath and courage that had taken her, so she gulps air down greedily.  
She doesn't even see Daryl move, one moment he is just silent and still, staring at the carcass in his hand, and the next he is in her face, towering over her and digging into her with his menacing glare.  
Beth withers, she is an animal caught in the headlights, and he is the predator with bared teeth and a smell that is purely masculine.  
He speaks quietly, staring down at her with clenched fists, and she can feel his hot breath and spit on her cheeks as he seethes. "Now you shut the hell up an' listen princess, an' you listen good. Ya some little wise ass who ain't never known a hard days work, ya just sit roun' yer house all day, all yer belongings an' shit still under yer nose, an' there ain't no doubt yer daddy still gives ya a goodnight kiss. I don't need some precious bitch tellin' me how I feel, or how I should feel. And I sure as hell don't need yer fucking sympathy. Ya say I don't care? Ya ain't the one who went an' got all shot up lookin' for some girl who ain't even yours! I ain't yer fucking business so why don't ya piss off or else my blade'll be looking for somethin' that ain't squirrel meat."  
Beth feels wounded, she can do nothing but stare up into the iciness of his blue eyes, and hope to God that the tears trapped in her own do not fall. Yet their gazes break, and two tears escape, and for a moment Daryl's anger is replaced with shock and something else which Beth can't identify. It is strange for her to see him at such a loss as to what to do, he steps back clumsily, raises his hand a fraction before tightening it by his side as if it never happened, but Beth will not stay to witness more of his strange reactions. She pushes past him shakily, and she is too confused and hurt to think, so instead she runs.

Day 214: Hour 17

Daryl pours over the land map with Rick, Shayne and Andrea, while Jimmy loiters behind them in hopes of some action. At least, Daryl pretends he is absorbed in the task, yet his mind is turning circles. He has never had much experience with teenagers, let alone female ones, and to be the cause of one's tears doesn't sit well with him, hell he'd go far enough to say he even feels a little guilty. His day seems to be plagued with a pair of blue eyes, first they had looked at him stunned, and then later as if he was a monster, and Daryl just can't wash away the image of her tears. Daryl is no stranger to fights or arguments; he was actually quite acquainted with them before the world fell apart. Since then he finds he is more mellow and composed, yet something about the way Beth spoke to him earlier, caused such a boiling heat in his stomach that he was overcome with something he will just name rage, because that's easier than thinking too hard on why Daryl has always been angered when people give him worth.  
He has to shake the thoughts from his head when he realizes that Rick is talking to him. "Daryl, you take Jimmy and search the back perimeter as far as the river," Daryl grunts his acknowledgment, "Shayne, Andrea, you two go west up until the highway. Glenn and Dale are going to stay here and keep watch on everything. Let's just stay focused and hope for the best, if Sophia's out there we've lost so much time as it is." He speaks quietly, because Carol is not too far away.  
Rick is strained, stressed with everyone's burdens, yet Daryl listens to the man, and probably always will, because there is a certain parental aspect in the way he leads the group, which Daryl respects, and unknowingly follows. Rick's weary eyes do not notice Shayne's stare, and Daryl knows that he is not the only one who thinks the little girl is dead, but he is the only one tactless and cynical enough to voice it. The hatred that Shayne gives Rick through his eyes is something that does not go unnoticed by Daryl, and he unconsciously finds his hand willing to hover above the knife at his belt whenever the other man is around.  
Their exit is prolonged abruptly by Maggie rushing towards them, yelling their names. T-Dogg stops cleaning guns, his expression prepared for the worse, while Lori comes wandering over, her face worried.  
"Has anyone seen Beth? We can't find her. Daddy's been looking everywhere." Maggie is panting, her brows creased with fear for her sister.  
Daryl does not miss the look of suspicion Lori passes him, nor the bubble of something nasty forming in his gut, so he speaks quickly, aiming for a neutral tone. "I'll go, saw her near the woods couple hours 'go."  
Ricks looks mildly relieved, his faith in Daryl's tracking skills evident.  
Maggie however, breathes panic, "Hours ago? She's been gone that long? What-"  
"I'll bring 'er back, dammit," Jimmy is by his side, his face defiant, and Daryl knows what he will say and shuts him up before he can get to it, "Not you. Ya'll slow me down." Daryl's impatience is warring with the unwanted concern wrapped around his bones, and he tells himself that this is simply because he does not want to be responsible for the death of a young girl.  
Daryl shoulders his cross bow, and makes to leave just as Rick's firm voice tells him to be careful. The two men share a nod of acknowledgment, and then Daryl is gone, heading into the environment he knows best, the woods that hide secrets, where he can pretend to be something great.


	3. Chapter 2

Day 214: Hour 19

Beth barely feels the dirt soak beneath her fingernails and the scrapes through her jeans as she trips. Her mind is too busy replaying the words of someone who hates her. She has always been one to worry needlessly over the good opinion of others, and to have someone outright hate her and speak barbs to her heart gives her a migraine. Leaves scrunch under her feet as she stands once again, and then she notices she is surrounded by trees and the air of a world that is no longer. Her vision spins and her stomach reels with things that are too ugly to be called butterflies, but it is the dragging of feet that are not her own that sends her running until her lungs burn and her eyes sting, until all she can do is collapse. She rests against a trunk, the harshness of the bark stabbing into her back keeping her in the now, while she forces herself to think of a time of smiles and her daddy's cheer. Beth knows it will be dark soon, yet she can't bring herself to care. If only time was able to be manipulated, and she could sit here watching as the sun hides further beneath the trees as every minute passes. If only she could think of things that are beautiful, things that matter. But time is the cruellest weapon, and it is a weapon that no one can use.

Day 214: Hour 20

She is there, curled fragilely like a fetus, twigs and foliage trapped in the golden strands strewn from her ponytail. Beth is not looking at him, but at a far off spot between her palms, and for some reason Daryl's heart falters and sort of falls through his stomach, and then he panics. His feet make up for the work which his brain has forgotten about, and then he is on his knees beside her, looking for traces, any blemish or tear on her pale skin. He can't see any damage, but Daryl knows more than anyone that the most brutal wounds lay beneath the skin, so he scans her face for the affirmation he needs.

When her eyes finally flick up to his they are strained with a fear that quickly gives way to relief and Daryl releases a breath he hasn't been aware of holding. His throat aches to tell her that it's okay now, that it'll always be okay, that the world is okay. Yet this is a lie that is known even by those that feign ignorance, and no matter how hard one squeezes their eyes tightly shut, a hell can never be a heaven. Instead he shifts his weight, the sticks and stones digging into his knees now too hard to ignore, and through a narrowed gaze and a cleared throat he says "Come on now. They're worried."

Daryl does not expect a reply, so he is not disappointed, but she lets him pull her to her feet and guide her homewards. He leads her, tugging her weak soul and buckling legs, because they both know she is too tired to walk without his help.

It is not until they break beyond the edges of the woods when he hears her gentle voice from behind him, "I ain't gonna thank you."

Then she is moving past him, walking straight towards the farmhouse, back to the family who is anxious and waiting for her return, who love and worry for her. Daryl clenches his jaw, words burning and dying inside him, willing himself to believe that what he feels is not jealousy.

Day 214: Hour 22

Jimmy fusses over her, and although it's annoying she maintains a smile. Because if she has learnt anything about life it's to cherish each moment with people as if it's her last. So she swats his hand away and tells him to nick off, her giggle informing the boy that she's fine.

Jimmy is not the only one worried for her, she realises this as she meets her sister's gaze from across the kitchen, but Beth simply grins, just like she will later on that night when her sister sneaks off with Glen.

Beth prepares dinner with Laurie, Carol and Maggie, and she swears that she has not laughed this hard in months.

Day 215: Hour 12

When Glenn tells them there are walkers in the barn, there is uproar. Shayne yells fury and makes the first move, shoving off Rick's restraint, and what follows will be days of unease and a strained relationship with Hershel.

Daryl tells himself that he doesn't care, that these people aren't his problem, but the inability to delude himself has always favoured him, and he will find his gaze constantly wandering over to the barn, and then to the farmhouse. And there isn't any number of sticks to be snapped that can convince him that he is right.

Day 215: Hour 24

Beth has been up for hours, unable to sleep, so she sits at her window, her eyes fastened on the faraway glow of what she knows is Daryl's fire. Her stomach does a little flip as the previous day's events run through her memory, and she cringes. She has tried to convince him that he is needed, that people care, yet he shot her down, and she can't help but feel that he will stab her in the face if she tries to approach him again. The only reason he had come to find her is because the others made him do it, no doubt.

The thought that Daryl didn't turn up for the meal she helped prepare makes her feel hollow, and the knowledge that he is out there by himself, by choice, makes her feel helpless and alone. It is strange that even though the man probably wants nothing more to do with her she desperately wants to make him feel included.

Beth shakes off her worry as her eye catches the glint of one of her small silver framed photos on her dresser. The dull glow of her bedside lamp illuminates the image within it just enough for Beth to reminisce. It's a picture of her and two of her best friends at prom, after graduation, and the girls are all rosy cheeks and white teeth. Beth sighs, a sharp pang of loss pokes at her, questioning where her friends are now, whether they are dead or alive, and if she will ever visit another dentist again.

Day 216: Hour 10

"Beth."

She jumps, and Daryl snickers because for some reason it causes him pleasure to irk her. He knows that the girl is scared of him now, and it's funny seeing her flee like a field mouse whenever he gets too close. Beth sloshes water all over her blouse and she glares at him as if he were something she found growing under the sink. Daryl thinks her useless, then humorous as she gives him the finger until he takes notice of the transparency the water has caused in the fabric of her shirt, and the hints of blue hidden beneath force him to avert his eyes.

Day 216: Hour 11

Beth slips the grey tank top over her head, finally dry. For someone who apparently hates her Daryl has been causing her an abnormal amount of stress. She had just been helping out around the farm, moving pales of water to the stables when the man had snuck up on her. She thinks she prefers him angry rather than sneaky and inflicting heart failure upon her, although she knows he had probably just been seeking to borrow another horse without permission when he found her.

She makes her way downstairs, intent on continuing her day uninterrupted, and keen to forget the dark look in his eyes after her accident.

Day 216: Hour 15

Picking daisies has never seemed so fucked. The truth is that Daryl feels uncomfortable around sobbing women, and he is sick of the accusation in Carols eyes whenever he returns without Sophia. But he still doesn't know why he is gathering flowers for the woman, he barely knows her, and Daryl Dixon doesn't pick fucking flowers. He also doesn't waste time thinking about moody teenagers who come into his life like an immoveable thorn in his side. But hell, when the world ends one has a right to go a little crazy. Maybe that's why instead of throwing down his bouquet in a fit of rage, he wipes the sweat from his forehead and goes off in search of a woman he hopes never to call family.

Day 217: Hour 9

Beth wakes to hands on her skin, roughness against her legs, and she giggles before briefly wandering how Jimmy managed to creep into her room. Hazily, she sits up, yawns and rubs at her eyes, but she is alone in her room, with the morning sunlight filtering across the bed sheets.

Day 217: Hour 12

Daryl has been watching Shayne since he emerged from the house that morning. He knows he is not the only one who suspects him of Otis's death, yet no one says anything. Because a happy family is still a family, albeit an ignorant one. Dammit, his guard is slipping lately, and the idea of becoming relaxed around anyone haunts Daryl like the plague.

Shayne is stationed at the barn as per usual when Daryl leaves to hunt, an activity that empties his mind and exhausts him of useless thoughts, such as other people's problems and lacy blue things.

He is three rabbits and two squirrels in when the first firings of a gun penetrate his ears, and the birds scatter to a place which can by no means be as peaceful.

Day 214: Hour 13

Beth bites into her cucumber sandwich, and is about to question Jimmy about this morning when they all hear a noise which sends their stomachs spiralling into pits of dread. And then they are running, everyone is running. More shots echo over their farm by the time she is out the door, and time acts as if in a dreamscape, slowing her legs like a quicksand, and she can only hope the shout that leaves her lungs is louder than a whisper. Then Maggie blurs past her, and for a moment Beth is caught in the memory of who can run fastest and reach the barn first, but then she remembers, and she moves, speeding through the game that life calls 'evading death'.

Her daddy is there, outside the barn, along with Rick and Shayne, and by the time she is close enough to see the two bodies at their feet there are already tears blinding her eyes. The others overtake her, because Beth has never been particularly athletic, and everyone holds the same panic in their expressions.

There are screams and everyone is yelling, but Beth can't hear anything because her ears are ringing, and then Shayne rips open the barn doors and she thinks she is dead, has been all along and that her life has just been a long tirade of lies, stringing everyone along so they can believe that hell is actually just another name for earth.

Day 214: Hour 14

Daryl is plastered with sweat on his skin as he arrives to see a settlement crumble. There is nothing he can do besides help the others take down every walking corpse that comes from the barn and watch as the weight of the world crushes Hershel and his family. He sees Beth crying on her father's shoulder, and this time he is not to blame for her tears. To witness ones family being slaughtered for the second time is something no one should have to live through, and when the shooting stops and they are surrounded by rotting dead bodies, Daryl wants to say something, anything. But then Sophia stumbles through the open entrance and Daryl curses every being that will listen.


End file.
